I Remember
by livingwithmuggles
Summary: I remember being free, and leaving the world so I could at last be born again. He wasn't alive. But I was always dead. George's life after he lost his brother. Please review.


I remember thinking it was a dream, that I would wake up, and not have to look in the mirror to see him.

I remember hearing my laugh. It was so unfamiliar alone. I kept wondering when it would become part of the duet.

I remember believing that he would appear in my thoughts, and we would get to have one of those last goodbyes, where he'd tell me that he'd never really leave me, that he was in my heart and we'd always be together. I was lost.

But I was only trying to convince myself. Believing in the stories we were told as children. I couldn't face the truth.

I was so ignorant. Of course he wasn't gone. We were Fred and George. Gred and Forge. There couldn't be one without the other. There was no _I_, there was only _we_. There was no _Fred_, no _George_. Only Fred and George. Only us.

It took me a while to realize I was wrong.

I remember walking through the crowds of screaming, distressed people. But I was deaf to their cries. I had to find him. So he could pull me under his arm and say _'all right Georgie?' _

I remember reaching my family, only barely noticing that one was missing. I remember seeing their faces, distorted with rage and grief, and wondering what could have caused such pain. I remember pushing through them, and finally seeing the reason for their agony.

I remember staring into his eyes, my eyes, but couldn't see him staring back. I remember screaming for him to wake up, to stop being an idiot and be serious for one second. I couldn't stop the memories flooding my head as I held him in my arms, telling him _we'll be okay, you'll be okay Freddie_.

It wasn't. _He_ wasn't.

I remember seeing the laugh on his face, and begging him to keep laughing, the tears flowing from my eyes, screaming at him _You promised! You promised you wouldn't leave me!_

And I remember the pain. The feeling that neither flame nor curse could cause. Feeling all the pain, the sorrow, the worry and misery that I had kept locked up for so long, for him. Because I couldn't let him see that I was scared. He needed me.

But seeing his face. Seeing the eyes I knew would never shine with mischief again. Seeing his mouth. Twisted in a grin, but knowing I would never again hear his voice. It broke the wall I had tried so hard to put up.

I told my self, again and again. It will pass. It won't be like this forever. I waited for the torture to subside. It never did.

I tried to move on. Tried to forget all the times we had shared, forget the memories, forget him. But I couldn't, so I settled for putting my wall back up. The face I could hide behind. They all believed me. I never could.

And every time I walked past a reflection of myself, in a mirror, a window, a lake, I would stop, convinced it was him, until I realized I was staring into my own face, only wishing it was his.

I fell in love Angelina, and she partly filled the hole that had been left in my heart. But I was always reminded why I had married her. I had married her for _him_. And every time I told her I loved her, I knew we were both thinking the same thing. He loved her first.

I had two beautiful children, and they too partly filled the gaping hole. But their names were all wrong. Roxanne and Fred. It didn't work. And I remember holding my son, loving him with all I had left, even though it was hardly enough, and being so proud. But there were always the times that I would look at him, thinking _you're not Fred_.

I remember lying on my bed, withered with age, yet still knowing that we never saw each other as old men.

I remember fading from the world, but still aware enough to wonder where he was, because we had both promised that we would wait for each other, and part lives together, as one.

I remember thinking back to the twenty years we shared, knowing that they were the happiest times of my life.

I remember the day he left me, and knowing that I wasn't really dying, because I had already been gone for so long. I hadn't really been here since the second of May, all those years ago. I hadn't been living all this time.

I remember being free, and leaving the world so I could at last be born again.

He wasn't alive.

But I was always dead.


End file.
